


Lungs

by sunshinefemme



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Airplanes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinefemme/pseuds/sunshinefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Q is faced with his greatest fear, Bond is there to guard him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> I was having some major anxiety the other day and felt the need to express it in writing. Coupled with a new fandom, voila.

“Did you really think you’d be able to work for MI6 without having to board a plane at any point?” Bond’s eyes were full of teasing mirth; it was not reassuring.  
Q kept breathing in sharply through his nose, willing himself not to head back to the loo again. “I’m still confident I could do my job in my pajamas. Have Tanner deliver your tech while I sit at my computer playing games.”  
“I’m afraid he’s too busy being M’s personal lapdog,” said Bond. They were on a private jet to Tokyo, waiting for takeoff. Q was silently praying for the plane to remain grounded.  
“Preparing for liftoff, gentlemen,” came the pilot’s gravelly baritone. Q swallowed thickly as the jet began to taxi down the short runway. The inside of his chest felt itchy, like there was something trying to claw its way out of his lungs.  
“Better put on your seatbelt,” said Bond. Q double and triple and quadruple checked that his seatbelt was as tight as it could be; he had already scouted out the floatation devices, oxygen masks, and emergency exits. He had reviewed plane crash statistics obsessively the night before, and had had to remind himself how much he was being paid.  
Q felt his stomach drop as the plane angled upward. It was getting hard to breathe, like an apple was stuck in his throat. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Q couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes. He glanced at Bond, but the agent’s attention was on the clouds outside. It wasn’t until Q broke into choked sobs, white knuckles gripping the armrests, that 007 noticed the man having a panic attack next to him.   
“Oh- oh bloody hell,” said Bond, awkwardly patting Q on the back. “Erm, it’s okay, chap.”  
“I c-can’t breathe,” Q gasped. Bond looked thoughtful, before grabbing the Quartermaster gently and guiding him into the agent’s warm embrace. Q didn’t bother to ask why; all he could do was cling to Bond’s cotton jumper and let the seductive scent of aftershave replace the terror in his lungs.   
Q worked to steady his breathing as the plane leveled out. “It’s going to be a long flight,” said 007 quietly, laying on his trademark charm. “You’re safe with me.”  
Q nodded weakly. “Thank you.” Mentally and emotionally exhausted, he eventually drifted to sleep at Bond’s side, barely aware of a weathered hand stroking through his messy hair.

When the two of them were exiting the plane half a day later, Bond gave Q a reassuring smile as if to congratulate him on his survival. Q ducked his head to hide the faint blush on his cheeks, wishing he could be swept up by 007 without having to face his greatest fear.


End file.
